


Celebrity Status

by Stylinsonvodka



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Desperate Louis, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Shameless Smut, Single Parent Harry, Smut, Top Harry, X-Factor Judge Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylinsonvodka/pseuds/Stylinsonvodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Harry's an X—Factor contestant with a kid, one too many tattoos, and his favourite judge's room key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> hello again!! me again back with another prompt fill i shouldve gotten up twelve years ago but didnt. i split it up into two parts so i could a) get it posted sooner and quatro) use it as motivation to finish it. the first part is all gross sap and harry being happy, and the next part will be porn and probably more gross fluff cause i cant help that anymore
> 
> i hope you love it, anyway, (tell me you do btw even if you dont), and feel free to send me prompts of your own on my [tumblr](http://www.stylinsonvodka.tumblr.com) that ill write and then forget i wrote and then post like a month later
> 
> (also follow me there if you want)
> 
> (and even if you dont want)
> 
> (follow me)

Harry's life officially starts when he walks out onto the stage. 

His heart beats in time with the cheers the crowd greet him with, and the bright lights overhead seep through his skin and keep his blood pumping. The judges smile, and Harry smiles back, and it's it. The first moment of the rest of his life. 

He stops in center stage, and smiles again, flashing the audience dimples and white teeth and they cheer. He laughs, brushes it off, but the whistles he receives speed up his heart rate until he's sure his hands must be shaking. It's so surreal. He's fucking here. 

Finally, one of the judges laughs, looking up at Harry and Harry slowly looks back down at her. In the part of his mind that hasn't melted, he recognizes her as Jesy Nelson, and it's, like, it's fucking insane, being stripped bare and stood in front of one the biggest musicians in the world. 

"Hi, honey," she greets, and Harry dimples again. 

The crowd roars. 

"Hi," Harry greets, after a moment of looking back out at the audience with white teeth and pink cheeks and a laugh laced with awe.

Jesy laughs again. "Bit nervous, are you?" 

"Shit, you have no idea," Harry agrees, and when the crowd laughs, he presses his lips together. "Shit, I'm not supposed to swear, am I?" 

"It's fine, it's fine," she grins. "Tell me a bit about yourself, babe." 

"Uh," Harry says. "I'm Harry Styles, I'm twenty five, from Cheshire, and I like to curse on national TV." The crowd laughs again, and Harry can't keep himself from grinning. "That was really bad, I'm sorry." 

Another of the judges, James Arthur, waves him off. "What made you audition today, mate?" 

"My son, actually," Harry says. The crowd seems to soften a bit, as they coo in unison, but Harry shakes his head as he runs a hand over his hair. "It's not as cute as it sounds," he explains. "He told me to audition because I can sing and do absolutely nothing else." 

Jesy leans forward again. "How old is your son, love?" 

"He turns three in a couple months," Harry tells her, and she smiles.

"That's so sweet. Is he here with you?" 

"Yeah, he's backstage."

Jesy nods. "With his mum?" 

Harry's heartbeat falters for a moment, and he glances down, feeling almost too exposed beneath the bright spotlights before the endless crowd. "Uh, no," he says finally. "His mum passed when he was born." 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Jesy rushes, but Harry shakes his head. 

"It's fine," he breathes. The crowd coos again, and Harry cracks a smile, schooling his confidence back on as quickly as he could manage. "I mean, it's shit, but at least I had her while I did, yeah?" 

His answering smile's slightly sad, but the crowd cheers again, and when he glances back up from his feet, he's beaming, wearing another crooked grin born beneath the spotlight. 

When the crowd dies back down, Michael Clifford leans forward, and flashes Harry a wide smile. "So, single father Harry from Cheshire, what do you do for a living?" 

"That was worse than one of mine, mate," Harry says, and Michael laughs. "But, uhm, I'm a tattoo artist. I own a studio in Cheshire. Sink Ink, if anyone wants to pop buy for a tattoo."

Jesy laughs. "Do you have any tattoos, baby?" 

"I do," Harry nods, and when the crowd roars again, Jesy claps her hands down on the table. "Now you have to show us." 

Harry laughs, and glances out at the crowd again, but the the answering roar is of a crowd with their minds made up. Harry rolls his eyes as he steps back from the microphone. He shrugs out of his jacket, and the crowd whistles, before he pulls his shirt over his head, and they scream. He has full sleeves, one in colour and one black and grey, and a chest piece that has grown down enough to completely cover his right pec. The ink colours one side of his neck, and crawls all the way down to his fingers on the opposite arm, and while he can willingly admit most of his tattoos are stupid, they drive the crowd to their feet. They cheer, and Harry blushes, pushing his hand back over his hair. 

"I have some on my legs, too, but I figured I'd keep from dropping my pants." 

"Shame," chimes the final judge, Louis Tomlinson, from the end of the table, who meets Harry's answering gaze with a grin and a wink. 

"I would, babe, but that would make this a different kinda show," Harry replies, and when Louis laughs, the crowd laughs with him. 

"Try and keep your pants on for right now, honey," Jesy says. "What will you be singing for us today?" 

"A mashup of Happily, by, uhm, Louis, actually, and Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons." 

"Happily and Hopeless Wanderer?" Michael repeats. 

Harry nods. "In the style of Mumford and Sons." 

"That sounds terrible, love, if I'm honest," Louis says. 

Michael snorts, and the crowd jeers along with him. "Terrible?" He says. "Sounds fucking brilliant! What made you decide on those two songs?" 

"Originally I had planned on only Hopeless Wanderer," Harry explains, "but Happily is my son's favourite song. And on the way over here he asked if I could pretty please sing them together for him." 

"So you did?" Jesy smiles. 

"Can't say no to him." 

"That's brilliant," she says. "We're ready when you are." 

Harry nods, and takes a deep breath and another step back from the microphone. He starts to strike the opening chords on his guitar, when Jesy raises her hand and successfully ends his song before it's begun. 

He looks back up, fully prepared to hear he's about to die beneath the spotlight. His heart started on stage, and he fears that's where it will stop. But then Jesy's laughing again, and motioning for all the judges to turn to the side of the stage, where the tiny head of Harry's son had appeared from backstage. 

"Is that him?" Jesy asks delightedly. 

Harry nods, glancing over at him fondly. "That's him, yes." 

"Bring him on, bring him on!" She cheers, and Harry laughs, before placing his guitar down carefully and rushing across stage. The young boy perks up immediately, and rushes halfway to meet him, jumping into Harry's arms as best he can before Harry lifts him up higher and rests him on his hip. The crowd cheers, and Harry thinks if his heart were gonna stop on that stage, he would die without regret. For that has to be the best moment of his entire life. 

He walks back to center stage, and Jesy laughs again. "Oh my goodness, he's precious! What's his name?" 

"I'm Tony!" The boy chirps, and Jesy covers her grin with her hand. 

"I bet you are, sweetheart! How old are you?" 

He holds up five fingers, and Harry can't keep from grinning as he nudges him. "No, you aren't." 

"No, I'm not," Tony agrees. 

Jesy laughs. "How old are you really, honey?" He holds up two fingers, and she nods. "You're so big!" 

Tony nods proudly. 

Louis smiles. "Are you ready to hear your dad sing, love?" He asks, and Tony nods again. 

Louis' smile widens. "Alright, Harry. Anytime now, baby." 

Harry nods, and carefully lifts Tony onto his shoulders, who grips his hair as Harry leans down to pick his guitar back up. He tunes it for a moment, before he starts to strum, before finally, officially, starting to sing. 

"You don't understand, you don't understand," he starts slowly, fingers moving swiftly over polished wood and taut string. The crowd starts to cheer again, though it means so much more this time around, as they cheer for talent stripped bare beneath the spotlight, instead of painted skin and quick wit. "What you do to me when you hold his hand. We were meant to be but a twist of fate, made it so we had to walk away." 

Tony giggles from above him, and Harry laughs into the words. "So leave that click in my head, and I will remember all the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start."

He glances from the crowd, to the judges, all of who are wearing small smiles and smug looks at Harry can't keep himself from laughing again because fuck, he's fucking made it. 

"So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire, don't hold a glass over the flame," he sang. "Don't let you heart grow cold. I will call you by name, I will share your road." He pauses for a moment, before Tony giggles again, and Harry grins. "'Cause we're on fire, we are on fire, we're on fire now. Yeah, we're on fire, we are on fire, we're on fire now." 

"I don't care what people say when we're together, 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer. And hold me fast, hold me fast, be the one who holds me when I sleep. Hold me fast, hold me fast, cause I'm a hopeless wanderer and I just want it to be you and I forever." 

He strums a final chord, before he music finally falters, and Harry steps back from the microphone. He barely has time to register what just happened, that he had just finished singing in front of thirty thousand people and he hadn't even thrown up, before the crowd and the judges and the crew backstage are all on their feet and clapping and cheering. Harry runs a shaky hand over his hair, and breathes out a shakier laugh, and steps back to the microphone with a stunned murmur of, "Thank you." 

The applause only grows. 

It continues for a solid several minutes, and Harry's almost surprised that he doesn't start to cry. It's Jesy who finally sits back down, and raises a hand; silencing the audience until she cries, "That was _brilliant_!", and the applause starts back up. 

Harry laughs. "Shit, thank you. Thank you so much." 

Jesy laughs, and claps along with the audience, until Louis leans forward against the table again. "Harry," he says, and Harry's breath catches. "That was absolutely unbelievable," he tells him. The crowd shrieks. "I can't believe it. You absolutely proved me wrong. That was incredible." 

"Thank you," Harry repeats. He's numb. 

Michael laughs. "I don't even think I need to say anything, mate. I loved you. Everybody loved you. It's a yes from me." 

Louis grins. "It's a yes from me, too. If you promise to continue to mashup my songs in the future." 

Harry nods quickly, unable to keep from cracking a smile. "I promise." 

"Yes," Jesy continues. "Absolutely, a hundred percent." 

Harry nods again, heart in his throat, and turns to James. Who grins.

"That's four yeses, mate. Congratulations." 

. 

Harry's heart officially starts beating hours after he's walked off stage. 

He's still bumming around behind the scenes, signing paperwork and doing interviews and watching Tony from the corner of his eye as he plays with the crew and the young siblings of other contestants. His hands are still shaking, and it's all still so surreal, but it doesn't touch on the way he feels when Louis fucking Tomlinson walks in from the stage, and walks over to Harry without hesitation. Harry almost doesn't look up, until Louis claims the chair next to him, and Harry has no choice but to look over to him with an arched brow and a flushed expression. 

He's tinier up close, is Harry's first thought. 

"Hi, love," Louis greets finally, and Harry barks out a laugh. 

"Hey babe. Everything alright?" 

"Of course," he smiles. "I just had to come see you before you left. Couldn't get you out of my mind, love." 

"Are you serious?" Harry grins, and he swears Louis looks fond as he nods.

"Dead. You're a talent, and your voice is unforgettable." 

Harry shakes his head. "This is fucking mad," he says, running a hand over his hair. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it." 

Louis laughs. "You're very welcome. I'm sorry I ever doubted you." 

"Can't blame you," he shrugs. "I know how morbid my speaking voice sounds." 

Louis laughs again. "That's not it at all," he assures Harry, placing a hand on his knee. That's when Harry's heart starts to beat again. "It's just how drastically different it is to mine. I wasn't sure how the difference in tone would sound." 

"And you think it sounded good?" 

"Better than the original. You have a career in music ahead of you, love, trust me."

"Shit, thank you."

Louis beams, looking, for all he's worth, like he doesn't know Harry's heart beats along with every word he says. "Anyway, love," he finally chimes, and holds a small sliver of plastic out to Harry. "I have to get back to the panel. I just had to let you know how much I adored you, and give you this." 

"What is this?" Harry asks, and Louis grins again. 

"My room key," Louis says, and Harry's heart threatens to give out all over again. "I'll be at the Royal Columbian. Room 1306." 

.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IM SORRY THIS TOOK FORTY THOUSAND YEARS TO FINISH I FORGOT I HAD TO UPDATE IT
> 
> I LITERALLY HAD THE UPDATE FINISHED ON MY PHONE I JUST NEVER POSTED IT
> 
> IM SORRY

Harry spends an entire ten minutes just standing outside Louis' front door. 

He turns the key over in his hands once, twice, he turns to walk away only turn right back on his heel and raise his fist and not actually knock. He pulls his phone from his back pocket, pushes it right back, he tries to turn away again, and then turns right back around to face the door. 

He doesn't know what he's so afraid of. He's a grown ass man, who had literally just sat and sung his heart out in front of approximately a bajillion people, and yet, he can't drum up the fucking courage to unlock the door to a damn hotel room he was literally invited into. He knows for a fact Tony's home, and safe, with Harry's mother, and he can't hear anything through Louis' door that sounds anything like Ashton Kutcher or the crew of Punk'd. Harry sucks in a breath, holding it until he's feeling lightheaded and considerably less tentative and able to look back up to the door. He bites his tongue, but nonetheless, he unlocks Louis' door, and before he can do something ridiculous, like lock it again and leave, he pushes inside and shuts it behind him. 

He doesn't see any cameras, or Ashton Kutcher, and allows himself a small sigh of relief as he locks the door behind himself and wanders slowly inside. He crosses through the main room, to what looks to be the master bedroom, the door to which is sitting slightly ajar and Harry can't help but peer through despite his best attempts. 

He can see just a sliver of the bed from where he's standing, but it's enough. Louis' propped up on his mattress, back against his headboard, wearing what looks suspiciously like it might be a silk robe. It's flipped open, revealing miles of smooth skin and the entirety of Louis' naked body. His ankles are crossed, and he's got a tattoo on his hip, and something about how flushed and pretty and absolutely gone he looks helps revive Harry's confidence. He knocks once, before he finally pushes it open, and leans against the polished wood of the doorframe with a smirk. 

"Hi," he greets. 

Louis looks up, face flushed and eyes glassy and Harry's struck with the urgent and immediate thought that he might be in love with him. "I thought you weren't gonna show up," he says, and he sounds small and urgent and absolutely nothing like the tiny chirpy bloke from before. Harry thinks he likes this one better. 

"Took me a while to get here," he lies. He straightens up from the doorframe, and looks Louis over slowly, before he tugs his own shirt over his head and makes his way closer to the bed. He barely makes it to the foot of the mattress before Louis' pulling him down on top of him and sealing their lips together urgently. It's an absolute mess of a kiss, and when Harry pulls back again his lips are swollen and there's a thick strand of saliva keeping their mouths tied together. Harry groans, and quickly kisses him again, as he moves to sit up on his knees and undo jeans which are suddenly and ridiculously constricting. 

He pushes them down with one hand, as Louis takes the other, and quickly presses a small bottle against his palm. Harry has to pause, and unwrap the plastic from around the bottle, and can't help but breathe a laugh out against Louis' lips as he uncaps it. He doesn't know what, in particular, he's laughing at, but Louis seems to reciprocate, and laughs into Harry's mouth as helps push his jeans down the rest of the way before he spreads his legs. 

Harry pulls back again to look him, and stifles a groan, because Louis is so flushed pretty and ready for him already, and Harry thinks again that he might love him. He quickly uncaps the bottle, and pours an unnecessary amount of lube onto his fingers, and they both laugh again as Harry leans back down to kiss him. The kiss is just as languid as the last, and Harry smiles against Louis' lips as he carefully pushes his first finger into him. Louis reacts instantly, as he gasps into Harry's mouth, and arches his hips quickly into the feeling of his finger. Harry pulls it out, and pushes back in with two, and Louis moans so loudly Harry swears his whole body shakes with it. "God," he murmurs. 

He breaks the kiss slowly, in favour of kissing down Louis' jaw, lips quirked at the corners as he scissors his fingers. Louis' shuddering, emitting these little noises Harry could listen to on loop for the rest of his life, and he breathes out another laugh as he brushes the tips of his fingers against Louis' prostate before pulling them back out. Louis cries out, and Harry takes pity on him for a moment, and pushes back in with a third finger. He drinks in the whimper that he emits, and rolls over slowly, moving so he's on his side next to Louis and can watch his face as he slowly presses in with a fourth finger. 

His mouth drops open, head back, and Harry has to stifle a groan of his own as Louis cries out again. 

"Oh, God, Harry," he's saying, rocking his hips. "Oh, don't stop, please don't stop, oh my God." 

Harry only hums softly, and slowly pulls out his fingers, pressing his lips to Louis' when he looks up at Harry and looks almost betrayed. 

"Don't worry, baby," Harry assures him softly. He pours more lube into his palm, and coats his cock quickly, pressing his lips to Louis' again as he finally lines himself up with his hole. "Are —" He starts, and Louis nods quickly, making a small noise of frustration. 

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," he breathes, rocking downward. "I'm sure, just, please."

Harry's more than willing to oblige, and pushes into Louis slowly, breathing out a groan through his teeth. Louis whimpers in agreement from beneath him, and pushes one of his legs over Harry's shoulders, and Harry groans again as he shifts and slowly starts to pull out. He pauses, waits for Louis to start to whine, before he pushes back into him, nuzzling against Louis' shoulder as he snaps his hips. They work themselves up to a crescendo fairly quickly, with Louis being absolutely unwilling to go any more gentle than incredibly forceful and Harry being more than willing to oblige. It's not long before he's gasping Harry's name and arching his back and coming between them in ribbons. 

He tightens around Harry obscenely, and Harry lets out another groan, feeling his stomach tighten with the sensation. He manages only another few thrusts, sloppy and uncoordinated as they may be, before he comes, biting at Louis' skin as he does. Louis whimpers again, and Harry pulls out slowly, dropping down onto the mattress next to him with a grunt. 

Louis stretches slightly, before he reaches out, and Harry looks over at him as he feels Louis' hand twining with his own. 

"Hi," Louis says, and Harry cracks a grin. 

"Hi. I'm a big fan." 

Louis laughs, and nods again, squeezing Harry's fingers. "Me too," he agrees. "In more ways than one, now." Harry barks out a laugh, and Louis grins again. "Can you stay the night?" 

"I can," Harry agrees. "Big night ahead of me?" 

Louis grins cheekily. "You have no idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOLLOW ME ON [TUMBLR](http://stylinsonvodka.tumblr.com) PLEASE AND IF YOU WANT YOU CAN SEND ME PROMPTS THERE THAT ILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY TEN MILLENNIUM TO POST


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